The Intergalactic War, Revised
by Chief Ratchet
Summary: Outnumbered, outgunned and virtually outmanoeuvred, the Galactic Alliance is being pushed back by the endless mechanised armies of the CIS. But the intervention of a third side threatens to change the face of the galaxy....forever....
1. Chapter 1

The Intergalactic War, Revised

A.N: Alright, I finally gathered enough inspiration to begin a rewrite of 'The Intergalactic War'. Why a rewrite? Looking back and reading though the original, I cringed when I saw appallingly bad writing on my behalf. So I've decided to ditch that one, and start anew. So much for my goal of completing the other one, eh? Well, I'll do my utter best to write much, much better than the other one, and to complete this one.

One word of warning: this may seem like a near pointless space battle, but this is the first time in a long time that I've written Star Wars. I have taken into account the advice that all the reviewers of the first Intergalactic War have given, and it hopefully will play into my writing later on. But not right now.

To get everything over and done with now, I have no idea where in the Star Wars timeline this story takes place. I am not an avid Star Wars fan, and have since dropped out of touch with what's going on. So please don't ask me when this takes place. I have no friggin clue and this goes against being a good writer, but I honestly don't really care. Another thing that urgently needs to be addressed is this. I'll put it in capitals so you won't miss it: _**THIS IGNORES THE HALO 3 STORYLINE**_.

I've gotten who-knows-how-many reviews that tell me something has happened in Halo 3 which I have not put into my story. It becomes VERY annoying when I've already said that I'm ignoring the Halo 3 storyline, yet people keep telling me things about Halo 3 which I already know. I've never liked the Halo 3 storyline in the first place in any case. This takes the same basic idea of original Intergalactic War, but I've thrown in a few modifications of the story. I hope you'll find it surprising. The interesting stuff happens next chapter xD. So review peoples, and I'll see ya next time.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Both of them.

Chapter 1: The Fall of Kamino

* * *

The stars over the watery world of Kamino were usually bright, a glimmer of light over the desolate, stormy world. This time, they were blocked out, as new stars took their place in the heavens: the exploding reactors of multiple warships.

One such ship, an aging, but still nonetheless formidable _Imperial II_-class Star Destroyer the _Revelation_, bore the signs of the turbulent battle over the planet. The shield generators were destroyed, and various marks scored its surface from turbolaser strikes, proton torpedos to proton bombs detonating and even suicidal Vulture droids colliding with it. Its turbolaser batteries continued to operate however, spitting green beams of death at whatever it could target. Given the sea of skeletal, sinister CIS frigates and destroyers around, outnumbering the Alliance vessels almost three to one, targets were not a problem.

Lasers struck out and pounded against the shields of a _Recusant_, gaining its attention. The smaller light destroyer turned slowly as the turbolasers continued to batter at its shields. They gave way before the might of the Star Destroyer, and several bolts struck the hole. Explosions bloomed from the craters carved into the ship. Wounded, the _Recusant_ was suddenly enveloped in fire as a pair of bombers strafed it, dropping a wide variety of munitions across its battered hull.

Parts shattered off and flew into space, as the _Recusant's_ reactor went critical. Explosions went off one after another as the fires chained their way into the ship's reactor. A final explosion ripped the ship into two, flinging the pieces into the far corners of space, which were now completely filled with ship after ship slugging it out.

Bolts of deadly colour filled the emptiness of space as the Alliance ships desperately tried to hold the line against an endless tidal wave of expendable CIS warships. At the rear of the Alliance formation, a pair of _Viscount_-class Star Defenders remained as heavy weapons platforms, their numerous batteries lighting up with bright discharges of turbolasers. Frigates scuttled around the battlefront, lending their firepower when needed and plugging holes in the steadily weakening Alliance lines. Fighters screamed through space, chasing CIS bombers which had slipped past to wreak havoc and destruction as the battlecruisers formed the main frontline.

Ahead of them lay the greatest mass of vessels they had ever seen. Nearly two hundred CIS warships, all of varying sizes, firepower and class, gathered in space launching probing attacks to light skirmishes against the Alliance line, with several large assaults. Never since the infamous Clone Wars had this many CIS vessels resurfaced, each representing the Confederacy's idea: cheap, inexpensive, expendable. Operating in packs, none of them operated alone: always a pack.

Another assault: several _Providence_-class carriers/destroyers, their surfaces rippling as Vulture droids scrabbled around on its hull, breaking away and heading off, followed by a _swarm_ of _Recusants_ and _Munificents_. Lasers flew to intercept their path as the CIS line surged forward again, intent on breaking the Alliance line, ship by ship. The heavy turbolaser cannons of the frontline opened up in their opening salvo as they advanced, swarms of Vulture droids and Tri-fighters buzzing around, in numbers so huge that they appeared as a mist over the CIS ships.

Their salvo was met in turn by the might of the Alliance warships. Turbolasers fired, meeting red bolts for green, as proton torpedos lanced out of their tubes, stabbing into the CIS lines as their salvo reached them. Instantaneously, ships on both sides of the conflict exploded as the shields were overwhelmed by the barrage, and hulls torn apart from multiple strikes. More hulks joined the ever-increasing amount littering space, as the Alliance lurched forward, the speedier frigates moving ahead past the destroyers and battlecruisers. The pair of _Viscounts_ brought up the rear as they sluggishly joined their brothers-in-arms in their fight for survival, hope and victory.

Space was once again clogged up with the metallic hulks of warships, the bright flashes of turbolasers and the explosions as ships were destroyed. One of the _Viscounts_ turned its innumerable guns against a trio of Recusants harassing the flanks of the Alliance navy, preying on smaller ships. Metal buckled under the assault, as one of the ships burst into flames and exploded soon after being blasted. The other two disengaged, and flew straight at the _Viscounts_, barging past other Alliance vessels who were engaged at point-blank range. Turbolasers ripped into their frontal shields, the sheer force and number of turbolasers stopping one dead in its tracks, while the other was shredded by the other _Viscount_. Twin explosions dotted space, overshadowed by others. Once destroyed and little more than space junk, no more attention was paid to them. There were more vessels to destroy, and time was running out.

One of the MC80 Star Cruisers exploded from combined might of five _Recusants_, the overwhelming firepower too much for it to bear, as the pack continued its hunt. One fell to the guns of a Star Destroyer as they set their sights on avenging their fallen comrade. A wing of fighters left the Star Destroyer's launch bays, whirling around in a twist of death as they engaged the Vulture and Tri-fighter complement escorting the _Recusant_ pack. TIE fighters and Interceptors duelled their mechanised, automated counterparts as a contingent of TIE bombers left the Star Destroyer's bays, carrying enough explosive warheads to crack through the shields...or to crack and wipe out huge portions of the hull.

The TIE Fighters and Interceptors managed to destroy three Vulture droids before one of their number fell: a TIE Interceptor spiralling out of control, a Tri-fighter pursuing it, sending red bolts racing after it. More individual dogfights occurred around the fighters, as the bombers roared over the top to deliver their deadly cargo.

The only transmission from the bombers signalled the inevitable destruction: "Bombs away."

The TIE Bombers unloaded their proton bombs, flashes of blue warheads dropping out of their racks and falling towards the _Recusant_ below, which was trading fire between it and the Star Destroyer. The shields failed...just as the first bombs hit. Explosions ripped apart the hull of the _Recusant_, blowing pieces of armour and the hull off. Internal components, power lines and conduits were severed as the bombs tore apart the ship. A pair of bombers went after the engine nacelles: proton bombs, glowing blue and white, ripped two of the nacelles to shreds, and cutting power to the only nacelle left. Explosions rang up the chain that led to the main reactor, which began going critical from the massive energy build-up even as the Star Destroyer continued to hammer away.

It exploded into a fireball, sending small parts of space metal into nearby ships and shields as the bombers returned to their home bays. Warning sirens sounded throughout the Star Destroyer, as the _Recusant_, ablaze with all the fire it was taking from the other ships, plunged towards the Star Destroyer, its intent obvious. It crushed starfighters against its hull as it pressed onwards. Un-phased by the sheer amount of turbolasers striking it, the Recusant fired all of its forward weapons at full power.

Enormous bolts of ion cannon power and lasers struck the failing shields of the Star Destroyer. The shields flickered, glowed and then died, as the final protective barrier phased out. With nothing stopping it, the _Recusant_ slammed into the larger ship: crunching itself into the hull, through hallways and decks and breaking every protective seal that would have stopped it. An explosion consumed both warships as the _Recusant's_ reactor went critical, sparking a chain reaction which ignited the Star Destroyer's reactor.

After the explosion had faded, nothing more remained of the two ships other than a few bits and pieces of scrap metal.

* * *

Strewn in the graveyard of dead and dying ships, the battle continued to rage. A pair of _Providence_-class carrier/destroyers ganged up on an MC80, tearing into with turbolasers and ion cannons. Entire sections of the ship went dark without power as the ion cannons sucked the power out of the ship like a leech. The MC80 was then consumed by a wing of bombers, explosions dotting all along its hull, sparking a final explosion that ended its operational life.

Similarly, a group of _Recusants_ were destroyed by multiple bombing runs made by a wing of K-Wing assault starfighters. An Imperial Star Destroyer remained as a firebase, hiding its age under its sheer firepower that destroyed a pair of _Recusants_, and mortally wounding a _Munificent_-class frigate.

Torpedos, turbolasers and bombs were exchanged between both sides, as dropships loaded with Marines did their best to navigate through the field of debris and into the landing hangars of the enemy ships to begin firefights anew, this time inside the ships. Several ships lost power to the Marines, droid or otherwise, as the boarders then did their best to secure a new LZ to bring in a steadier rate of reinforcements and from there on, into the bridge.

Three Alliance warships, a MC80B Star Cruiser, a Nebulon-B frigate and a Star Destroyer, fell to the droid forces that simply swarmed over the defenders, overwhelming them in a wave of unfeeling metal and blasters. Two of the of ships managed to self-destruct before the droids got a hold of the ship, but the other, the Star Destroyer, fell under CIS control. Within minutes, a droid flight crew had been flown in and had taken over the ship. Nearby Alliance vessels were caught off-guard when the Star Destroyer turned its guns on them, knocking out shields and biting into the hull.

The distraction cost the Alliance dearly, as a battle group of _Providences_, followed by a large number of supporting destroyers and frigates charged straight into the lines, ploughing through the frontline of destroyers and battlecruisers. They brushed aside all forms of resistance as they began wreaking havoc within the Alliance lines, shielded from the wrath of the _Viscounts_ by the other Alliance vessels. Vessel after vessel exploded as the Providences, modified with extra proton torpedo tubes, unleashed barrage after barrage of glowing proton torpedos, devastating the lighter vessels and heavily damaging the heavier warships.

The numerous _Recusants_ and _Munificents_ served as sacrificial shields for the Providences, taking the blows on their shields and hulls if necessary, adding their more diminutive (compared to the _Providences_) firepower to the already destructive force that the _Providences_ were projecting. Point defence lasers on the Confederate ships sprayed laser bolts across space, trying to hit the Alliance fighters buzzing around. Several went up in flames, their shields overloaded and lasers ripping into their frames. Similar lasers from the Alliance lines struck the innumerable amount of droid fighters buzzing around, vaporising them in just a few hits.

With a hole in their lines, the rest of the Confederate navy slipped within the lines, tearing apart the Alliance from within. The sheer amount of firepower being sent back and forth caused explosions to dot space, lighting up the darkness for all on the planet below to see. The _Providences_ provided the heavy hitting that the Confederate fleet needed to crack the heavier shielding and hulls of the larger Alliance vessels. Two _Providences_ exploded when the _Viscounts_ again proved their worth in gold, continually battering away at the Confederate ships that swarmed all over the battlefield. The effort ultimately proved to be futile, as no matter how many ships they or the others destroyed, more simply swarmed to take their place in the ever-growing sea of CIS ships.

Turbolasers from all sides tore into ships, sending more into the expanding graveyard as the brave pilots of the fighters and the bombers of the Alliance did their best to drive away the droid bombers and ward off fighters. Simply spraying laser fire into the masses of droids gave the Alliance pilots a kill ratio of nearly three droid ships to every pilot. Despite this, there were nearly _ten_ droid fighters and bombers for every Alliance pilot. Interceptors and A-Wings flew circles around, dogfighting with their counterparts, the agile and deadly Droid Tri-fighter. The other larger fighters and bombers struck out against Confederate vessels that approached the small battle group that was left of the Alliance fleet.

Sustaining enough losses, the Confederates backed off their fleet momentarily, giving the battered and virtually defeated Alliance fleet-turned-battle group a brief moment of reprieve to rest and cool the guns...and to send out the signal that Kamino was all but lost.

The battle group consisted of the two _Viscounts_ which were responsible for the destruction of multiple Confederate ships, a trio of MC80B Star Cruisers, one of which was badly damaged, a pair of _Imperial II_-class Star Destroyers still in a good condition and a variety of other frigates and smaller ships. Fighters, all refuelled and rearmed for their last stand, assumed escorting positions over the capital ships that they had to defend. The turbolaser batteries were warmed up once more, this time with their capacitors overcharged: it was normally a hazard, with the risk of the capacitor overloading and exploding, but all circumstances considered, the Alliance battle group was as good as dead in any case.

Having drawn back long enough to reinforce their fleet once again, the Confederate fleet surged forward as one again. This time, they were met with a barrage of proton torpedos fired from the Alliance battle group. Glowing blue torpedos struck the forward line of _Recusants_, acting as a shield to soak up damage for the heavier and harder to replace ships at the rear. Explosions dotted the shields, some of which failed after repeated torpedo strikes.

Continuing forward, ignorant of the damage they had taken (though some of the vessels slipped away for the ones behind with shields to take their place), they struck a minefield lain by the Alliance. Explosions dotted space as the mines, upon contact, exploded. Ripping through weakened shields, the explosions tore gaping holes in the unshielded vessels, opening their vulnerable atmosphere within to the cold depths of space. Explosion after explosion occurred as the Confederate navy pushed onwards, steadily clearing a path through the field, paying with every metre gained.

Reaching the firing range of the Alliance battle group, the Confederate fleet immediately fired. A hellish salvo of turbolasers and proton torpedos lashed out at the Alliance battle group, turning space from black to a glowing angry red. The Alliance ships returned the favour, firing their own far smaller barrage of supercharged turbolasers and proton torpedos. Explosions ran rampant as ship after ship went down, their shields pierced by turbolasers or cracked from proton torpedo hits.

Given the sheer number of vessels being thrown at them, the Alliance ships went down one by one, blown apart by being targeted by multiple batteries and proton torpedos. After what seemed an eternity of fiery explosions and glowing turbolaser battery barrels, only the two _Viscount_ Star Defenders stood.

The Confederate ships, surrounding the doomed vessels on all sides, stopped firing. A single transmission was given to the two _Viscounts_ from the lead Confederate vessel.

The Admiral onboard the less damaged of the two _Viscounts_ gave the offer a disdainful snort.

"Get me a line to their leader," he barked.

The men and women under his command rushed about, tapping keys to get a link to the Confederate flagship. Seconds later, a screen popped up, and showed a Neimoidian, their leader.

"Well captain, do we have your surrender?"

"I'm not a captain. It's Admiral, and let me tell you one thing: we're the Alliance Navy; we don't surrender to the likes of you! You can take your surrender, and shove it up your spiny ass!"

With that final declaration that sealed their fate, the connection was cut, and the screen faded to black.

"Tell all gunners that they have weapons free. Take down as many of them tinnies as they can!" ordered the Admiral.

Supercharged turbolasers struck out against the Confederate vessels as they surged forwards, intent on snuffing out the last of the Alliance battle group that had held out against them. Punching through the shields of the nearest CIS vessels, the supercharged lasers blasted holes into the hulls and armour plating as the last few remaining fighters and bombers dove amongst the wreckage. Proton torpedos wrecked as many ships as the lasers, as the Confederates threw every ship that they had at the two massive _Viscounts_.

The _Viscounts_ were massive ships wielding enough firepower to make any battle fleet think twice about attacking it. Complemented by wings of starfighters and armour plating as well as heavy shielding, they were the epitome of the perfect warship.

But not even the sheer amount of firepower or size was enough to get the Confederate fleet to back down. Ship after ship engaged the two, throwing massive barrages of lasers and torpedos at the _Viscounts_. The initial wave of _Recusants_ was brushed aside, swatted out of space by turbolasers. The next wave comprised of heavier ships, but all the same, they fell to the combined might of the _Viscounts_.

Turbolasers shattered ships were they moved, and proton torpedos detonated on hulls as the _Viscounts_ fired everything within their mighty arsenal at the endless waves of Confederate ships. One ship after another exploded, their shattered and ruined hulls joining the expanding graveyard even as their fellows rose to take their place. Swarming in front of, around and below the Viscounts, the shields of the mighty warships were slowly but surely battered down in a constant hail of lasers and torpedos. Return fire smashed another pack of Confederate warships, reducing their superstructure to something akin to cheese, with craters blasted into every imaginable part of the ships...or outright vaporising them.

The death and destruction of their fellows only seemed to inspire the Confederate ships to attack with even greater ferocity. They continued a non-stop bombardment of the two Viscounts, heedless of their losses. Under the sheer force of the fusillade, the shields of one of the _Viscounts_, the _Glory_, cracked apart. Instantly, armour plating boiled and was vaporised as the sheer number of laser bolts slamming into it wrecked it apart. The ship started to list as more and more holes were punched through the ship as the Confederates swarmed the dying vessel. The _Viscount's_ sister ship _Mercy_ tried to fight its way to the virtually destroyed ship, lasers and proton torpedos lashing out at anything daring enough to get close.

But it was a doomed venture.

With agonising slowness, a _Providence_-class carrier/destroyer with flames crackling throughout its superstructure, rammed the unshielded _Glory_. Explosions, eerily silent in the vacuum of space, blossomed in deadly sprays of red and orange. The force of the _Providence_ ramming the _Glory_ had resulted in the virtual merging of the two superstructures, as the _Providence_ became embedded into the _Glory_. The _Providence_, being the less structurally sound of the two warships, exploded as its reactor was breached and overloaded.

Fire ripped through the interior of the _Glory_, consuming oxygen, metal, ammunition, fuel and people indiscriminately. Explosions chained up along inside the ship as bulkheads slammed down to contain the raging infernos as automated suppression systems went to work. Suppressants sprayed the afflicted areas, dousing the flames as several breaches in the hull were created from the fires exploding outwards.

Heavily damaged, unshielded and now virtually unarmoured, the Confederate forces continued to pound the _Glory_ as others closed in on the _Mercy_. With a final shuddering groan, the _Glory_ succumbed to her fate as yet another near unrecognisable hulk. Several ships continued to pound the floating, disabled and destroyed _Glory_ as if to celebrate their victory over the titan.

Their victory was cut short however, when the _Mercy_ fired a devastating salvo from a portion of its guns, aiming at the offending Confederate ships. Three _Recusants_ were figuratively blown out of the water, their burning wrecks careening uncontrollably into nearby ships to wreak even more chaos.

It only served to bring the full attention of the fleet to the last surviving Alliance ship, as the _Mercy_ stubbornly held off its innumerable attackers. One ship fell, followed by another, and another, all victims of the massive guns of the _Mercy_. But even giants, with enough firepower, will and numbers could be defeated.

Confederate ships swarmed the _Mercy_, appearing like a swarm of flies over dead carrion. They were persistent, battering away at shields from range, trying their best of avoid return fire, or flying as close to the behemoth as they dared and unleashing massive broadsides point blank into the _Mercy_.

But as wounded as it was, the _Mercy_ was not going down without a fight. Lasers and proton torpedos left even more Confederate ships floating lifelessly, as ion cannons carefully picked out and disabled ships with high-powered blasts of ions that rendered them helpless. Such ships were ripe targets for the turbolaser gunners, and they fired on the disabled ships with impunity. But as many as there were disabled, even more were still active and pummelling the _Mercy_ mercilessly.

Gaping holes appeared in the mighty warship's frame, widened even further from additional impacts which tore the ship apart. On the bridge, the Admiral viewed the lost battle with saddened eyes. Multiple reports started to stream in regarding the reactor, which was on the verge of exploding. Before the officer could say anything to the Admiral, a loud rumbling was felt through the deck. The Admiral took one last look at the battle in space outside, and then took one long last look at the bridge and the crew, all of whom were looking at him, waiting for orders.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out.

He had failed.

* * *

With a final groan, the _Mercy_ exploded. Fragments of the once-mighty ship showered the entire battlefield, white-hot fragments bouncing off shields or streaking into unshielded hulls like miniature meteorites. Completely victorious, the uncontested, if severely depleted, Confederate fleet moved in on the planet like a shark circling its prey.

Kamino was theirs for the taking.


	2. Neutral to Hostile

The Intergalactic War, Revised

A.N: Okay, explanations, explanations. I have mixed feelings about this chapter, as I found that I now write ground battles far better than space ones, and easier to boot. Weird, eh?

I suppose that I'd better say something first. It's a bit rant-ish but since nobody reads this it'll be alright, right? Anyways, since someone asked about romance, I'll make my feelings pretty damned clear about it: I very much dislike to the point of hating some sections in . All I see there is story after story after story after endless story of the same damned pairing. And to top it off, it's written about the very pairing that I hate and would love to see burning. All the while, these generic run-of-the-mill stories are getting truckloads of reviews while the perfectly well written stories about other, less used characters are standing in the background ignored.

Enough of my ranting, and let's get this show on the road. As always, make damned sure you click the purple button down the bottom and leave a few words in return for me! How fast I update actually depends on how many reviews I get (in a way. The more reviews means the faster, obviously. I'm looking at you alerters who haven't reviewed right now…) But still don't expect weekly or even fortnightly updates.

And also, I stuffed over believability and accurate behaviour to let in room for fun and to set up something more exciting. If I wanted everything to be accurate to a tee, I would have gone into historic novel writing. Come on, have some fun and loosen up.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Both of them.

Chapter 2: Neutral to Hostile

* * *

The deep, inky blackness of space, the second last great unknown (the honour of first great unknown was death), became distorted. Rippling across the sea of black like a pebble thrown into a pond, a hole was torn in the fabric of that very unknown, as a one, then two, then three, followed by a entire flotilla of majestic warships entered the real dimension of space.

Nearly two hundred warships of differing design, colour and appearance slipped out of the alternate dimension of Slipspace. Human warships, blocky and geometrical in design were interspersed with Covenant ships, sleek and predatory in their design. Within minutes of leaving Slipspace, the warships formed up into separate battle groups, with Human and Covenant ships mostly staying apart from each other. Mutual distrust still lingered, even if the majority of the hatred had dissipated over the few years. Even now, in an attempt to promote relations between the two, several ships had been assigned to each battle group, two human destroyers to the Covenant battle group, and two Covenant heavy frigates to the human battle group (the heavy frigates outgunned most of its human counterparts and could rival destroyers in any case).

In the lead of the Covenant battle group was an Assault Carrier. The gleaming, silver hull of the titanic vessel dwarfed every ship in its battle group and indeed, the entire joint UNSC-Covenant fleet. Numerous vessels of every shape and size gathered, ranging from support ships to massive carriers, who in turn were swarmed around by its wings of teardrop shaped Seraph fighters.

The lead vessel for the UNSC battle group was a ship not-too-dissimilar to the Assault Carrier. The latest design and the most technologically advanced UNSC ship, the _Aegis_-class experimental battleship was a force to be reckoned with. Unlike other UNSC ship designs, the _Aegis_-class battleships had a sleeker and smoother design, more reminiscent of a Covenant ship than a UNSC one. It lacked the bulkiness of a normal UNSC ship, and instead was somewhat flatter. It still kept the human preference for straight lines and hard angles: it was shaped like an arrow, thinner and longer than most UNSC ships.

At two kilometres in length, it was one of the largest human-built ships. Its armament was unique: it had twenty Archer missile pods mounted around the hull and a large number of point-defence guns but completely lacked any MAC gun of any shape or form. Instead, it carried ten railguns, mounted on five turrets with two railguns apiece. Three of the massive railgun turrets were mounted on top of the ship, with the other two on its underbelly. The turrets had a large view, and the ones mounted on its underbelly could point almost vertically downwards.

The ridiculously high costs of constructing a new _Aegis_-class battleship however, had restricted their deployment, along with a multitude of officers who opposed its deployment, citing that it was better to remain with what they had instead of diverting resources to create a new experimental one.

But the Admiralty, comprised of a panel of veteran admirals and at its head the rapidly aging Lord Hood, had overruled their concerns to a certain extent. Production of the new Aegis's had been slowed, and more funds were diverted to construction of more ships. As such, only three _Aegis_-class battleships were in existence: the _Aegis_, the _Nimitz_ and the third, as-of-yet unknown _Aegis_.

This one, the _Aegis_, was commanded by Admiral Jack 'Thunderbolt' Thompson, a veteran of several conflicts against the United Rebel Front and veteran of many battles against the Covenant. He was tall man despite his age, and the only betrayal of his age was several streaks of silver in his hair. Fiery, hot-tempered and a quick thinker, he was renowned for his ruthlessness in battle which had led to minor victories against the Covenant on other, less major colony worlds.

"Status?" he barked to the bridge crew around him.

"All systems are green sir. Reactor is operating within normal limits, all Archer pods are hot and railguns are fully charged. Their officers stand ready for orders," the operational officer, Lt. Kinsburg, reported.

"And the fleet?"

"They're forming up," his communication officer replied, looking up from her station.

"Good. Open a channel to Fleet Master 'Kaisemee," the admiral ordered.

Fleet Master 'Kaisemee appeared on one of the screens. "Greetings Admiral."

"Skip the small talk. How's your battle group?"

"Straight to the point, I see," chuckled 'Kaisemee. "My fleet is operating at maximum efficiency. We'll be ready for the blasted apes when we do see them."

"Good. Then let's get hunting."

Together, the two hundred combined ships slowly rumbled off into space, their engines flaring.

* * *

It had been nearly three hours since the combined battle groups had entered real space, and three hours of constant searching and scanning had revealed little to the hunters, human or otherwise. Three hours had gone by without so much as a flicker on their scanners, apart from the odd rogue asteroid.

On board the bridge of the _Aegis_, which was in the middle of the fleet along with the Assault Carrier _Merciless Dawn_, Fleet Master 'Kaisemee's ship, Admiral Thompson was in the middle of a discussion with the Fleet Master.

"So tell me, where exactly are we?" he questioned.

'Kaisemee grunted as he looked onto a screen. "This region is the boundary line of known Covenant space. The closest known planet we occupy here is only less than half a lightyear ahead of us."

"So why didn't you bastards expand?"

"Had our holy war with you not gone ahead, then undoubtedly, we would have expanded our territory here," 'Kaisemee.

On the holographic view screen, Admiral Thompson watched another asteroid float by. The bridge of the Aegis, along with the bridges of every other Aegis-class battleship, was located deep inside its armoured hull, yet another feature 'borrowed' from the Covenant.

"Are asteroids common around here?" he asked.

A deep frown settled on 'Kaisemee's face—or at least, what Admiral Thompson presumed to be the Elite version of a frown.

"No. They are not a common sight around here. Bring the fleet's alert status up to combat levels," he ordered. "Make sure our weapons are prepared to fire immediately on my command."

"Something wrong, Fleet Master?"

"A growing suspicion. A warrior does not survive a war by technology and training alone," 'Kaisemee said.

"Alright. We'll continue this later," Thompson said as 'Kaisemee nodded.

The screen with 'Kaisemee flickered off, and showed a holographic representation of the area and the entire combined fleet in its place.

"Tag all the asteroids that have passed us larger enough to potentially shield a destroyer," he ordered.

The ship's AI, Cynthia appeared on the holotank. "Aye aye, captain."

"Admiral," he corrected.

"If you insist," Cynthia said with a mock sigh. She could replicate human expressions amazingly well for an AI. "Done. Next time, task me with something harder, will you? A girl like me gets lonely fast."

"Good. Calculate attack vectors to target both sides of the asteroids and give the railgun crews a hand," he ordered.

Cynthia gave a salute, and dissolved into a haze of particles, which swarmed back into the projector before disappearing completely.

"Orders, sir?" asked Lt. Erika, his communications officer.

"Tell the fleet to prepare for attack. Get the carriers and support ships in the middle of the formation; we can't afford to lose them."

"Yes sir," she replied, her fingers flying over the keys.

"Weapons?"

"Archer pods are hot and awaiting targets. Railguns are at full operational capacity. Cynthia has control of point-defence guns," Lt. Tom Chen, his weapons officer, said.

"Then whatever's coming, we're ready for it," Admiral Thompson sighed. He walked back to his command chair, and sunk into it with a sigh.

On the holographic tactical map, he watched as smaller versions of Covenant ships arranged themselves in a similar formation; the support ships clustered in the middle, with the heavier warships themselves covered by a series of smaller frigates and corvettes.

"Energy spikes detected in Fleet Master 'Kaisemee's ships," calmly reported Cynthia, appearing on the holotank once again. "They seem to be preparing for something."

"So are we," Admiral Thompson said.

Their precautions soon proved to be their saviour when the asteroids around the battle group suddenly rocketed towards it. The entire bridge burst into a frenzy of shouts as their officers reported the readings on their screens. The act was carried out on all the ships throughout the entire combined fleet.

"Energy spikes detected all around us!"

"Asteroids accelerating! Collision imminent!"

"Enemy ships appearing!"

"Railgun officers requesting targets sir!"

"—collision in ten seconds! Mass approaching at high speeds!"

"Order the railgun officers that their primary targets are the asteroids!" roared Admiral Thompson. "All ships, break formation! Spread out!"

The railgun turrets quickly swivelled around on their mounts, until they were pointed at the asteroids. It only took the massive guns a second to lock onto the fast approaching rocks. The barrels glowed with power as electricity coursed through them, charging the twin rails with power. A single large tungsten spike was accelerated between the rails, before bursting out. A thin blue line traced its path, courtesy of several chemicals added to the spike for the officers to get a better visual sense of where the spike had gone.

There was very little recoil from such a weapon of destructive power. The single spike, quickly joined by its twin from the second set of rails, sliced through space and slammed into the asteroid. It shattered through layers of rock and pockets of metal, before eventually slowing to a halt three-quarters of the way into the mass of space rock.

The asteroid seemed to slow and spun around slowly. A large part of the asteroid had been destroyed, and it slowly collapsed on itself, throwing bits of rock everywhere. The other asteroids met the same fate from the standard MAC rounds or were melted by massed plasma torpedo salvos.

However, several vessels did fall to the asteroids. Two UNSC frigates and a Covenant destroyer were crushed under the impact of an asteroid, shortly before the offending rocks were obliterated by fire from the combined fleet.

But the asteroids weren't the killing blow. Within moments of the asteroids being obliterated, plasma torpedos raced into the fray, impacting on shields and hulls. Three UNSC ships—a frigate and a pair of destroyers—boiled away from the assault, leaving little behind apart from several bits of metal. The smaller Covenant ships that had been caught in the attack had their shields drained from the assault. They tried to pull away, but were vaporised by several long, thin beams of energy striking out.

Fleet Master 'Kaisemee watched with a clenched fist. He had been a highly talented and skilled officer within the Covenant before it had fallen apart. But his promotions were hampered many times because of his reluctance to accept the Prophets reasons for the slaughter. Others were promoted in his place, him being passed over many times simply because others were more devoted to the cause and could accept orders without question.

"Where did the beams originate from?" he asked, as several other Elites and supporting Engineers worked on the consoles in front of and below the command platform where he stood.

"Our cowardly enemies hide behind the rocks!" the Elite manning the scanning station reported with anger. "The fleet is moving to engage them."

"Order the fleet to halt pursuit," 'Kaisemee ordered. "Fall back and take positions behind the CCS-battlecruisers."

"As you wish, Fleet Master."

The orders were quickly issued, and the rest of the frigates near the edge of the fleet quickly moved back behind the stronger shields of the larger vessels. Several more plasma torpedos rocketed out, as the humans fought back against the aggressors over their side.

"All ships, forward! Burn the filthy apes from existence!" roared 'Kaisemee into the open communication lines once the frigates and smaller ships had taken refuge.

As one, the mighty Covenant battle group surged forward, plasma conduits glowing as plasma collected at their sides. The smaller Brute fleet, attempting to ambush the collective fleet, quickly recognised that they were heavily outnumbered and outgunned and tried to flee.

Plasma torpedos and Energy Projectors fired, cutting swathes of destruction through the Brute fleet. The smaller vessels instantly exploded under the barrage, and the larger ones were heavily damaged. But still, they managed to return the favour, with several CCS-battlecruisers exploding into nothing from multiple plasma torpedo impacts.

"Fleet Master, this is Ship Master 'Okyosee of the _Avenger_. I request permission to pursue the Brutes."

"Denied 'Okyosee. Wait for our human allies to rally together first," ordered 'Kaisemee.

"No need Fleet Master. We're just itchin' to kick some hairy space ape ass," the voice of Admiral Thompson came over the communications panel.

"Very well then. If you would as kindly form your battle group alongside ours, we shall continue our endeavour to wipe out this little band of Brutes," 'Kaisemee said.

Admiral Thompson made no reply, and instead, on the holographic screen showing the visual representation of the area showed that the human fleet, which was slightly bruised over the loss of four frigates and a pair of destroyers moving to join his fleet. The two distinct battle groups hooked up, and once the _Aegis_ was alongside the _Merciless Dawn_, they surged forward, intent on snuffing out the last of the Brute Loyalists.

But by now, the remains of the Brute fleet, comprised mostly of smaller vessels had fled well beyond weapons range. As a small benefit, the fact that they were using their engines at full power meant that they were easily traceable.

'Kaisemee sighed as he watched the rest of the fleet continue through the holographic screens.

"I shall retire to my room," he announced. "'Nyamee, you have the bridge."

His second in command, a female Elite dressed in black armour with white edging walked forward. "Thank you Excellency."

'Kaisemee nodded, and walked out. Females within their armed forces were now a slightly more common sight than they were during the war. The war, and the Civil War within the Covenant, had left a great deal of the Covenant's military dead, among them countless legions of Grunts and Jackals and exceptionally high numbers of Elites dead. Considering that all the Elites serving were male, it left far fewer numbers to be recruited, even with the spread of the Covenant. Recognising that if such losses continued, there would be a greater number of females than males, the Elite Councillors changed the strict doctrine of the military to allow females to serve, albeit reluctantly. But with the support of the Arbiter, Rtas 'Vadumee and several other esteemed Zealots, the notion was passed and ever since, the Elite's military had been bolstered.

Reaching his quarters, the DNA sampler checked his DNA and when it had verified that it was him, the doors slid open without so much as a hiss. The quarters of the Fleet Master weren't quite as lavish as most people would imagine: in contrast, it was quite Spartan, containing only the necessary items. The only luxury that he had was the private bathroom, connected to his quarters. He would take one later: family to him came first.

Walking over to the communicator, he tapped a few buttons, and waited to connect to his family, using a series of relay probes to gain the signal necessary. Within moments, he had been identified, and the call was passed through.

The face of his sister came up and needless to say, she was quite shocked at his sudden call.

"Brother!" she exclaimed.

"Hello Rysem," he chuckled. "How is everything at home?" His sister was still too young to be mated and as such, stayed at home to take on smaller duties.

"Father is still angry at you," she said, almost apologetically. "Everyone else is in good health."

'Kaisemee sighed. His father, also a decorated war veteran, was more than displeased with his decision to join Rtas 'Vadumee in assisting their human allies. His father had eventually let him go (there was no way that his father would stop him in any case), but very clearly expressed his disapproval of the decision.

"I would apologise a thousand times to him, if I did not know at the bottom of my heart that the course of action I chose was the right one," he told his sister.

"I know. But, there is very little you can do in any case. None of us here blame you for it," she replied.

As his vocal cords began to formulate a response, there was a beeping from the communications console next to him.

"I'm sorry, but I am needed elsewhere. I will try to contact you again," he sighed apologetically.

She nodded, before the unit switched off, and allowing the face of 'Nyamee to take her place.

"What is it?" he barked.

"Excellency, our pickets have caught up to the rest of the Brute's fleet."

"What is so important about that requires my attention?"

"The Brute fleet is preparing to enter the alternate space. They request permission to destroy."

"I will be there soon," he said, standing up.

If the Brute fleet was preparing to jump to another system, then he would be required to be up on the bridge, to make sure that the rest of the battle group would follow. Something else remained at the back of his mind. A small feeling that whatever the Brutes were up to, it wasn't going to be something that was routine.

Touching the magnetic clip at his waist, his fingers curled around the hilt of the Energy Sword that was a symbol of his status. Countless enemies had fallen before he had been bestowed the position of Fleet Master, and he swore to himself that one way or another, the Brutes who had betrayed them would fall.

Stepping into the bridge, he glanced around.

"What is the matter?" he demanded, as 'Nyamee stepped off the command platform to let him stand there.

"The Brute fleet is preparing to enter the alternate realm," she responded. "But none of the coordinates match anything in either our space or Human."

"Follow them," he growled. "They will regret the day they ever betrayed us!"

"Excellency? The human leader asks about our decision."

"Tell him that we are pursuing, and his forces can stay behind if he wishes them to," ordered 'Kaisemee.

The face of Admiral Thompson came up on the screen, a sneer on his face.

"Yeah, like we'd run from a perfectly good fight. Mind giving us the coordinates?"

"Of course."

A series of flashes later, and the ships gathered in space started to accelerate forward into numerous holes torn into the fabric of space, leaving the realm of real-space and into the realm of faster-than-light travel.

They were headed for a journey that would see the war to end all wars.

* * *

Captain Bai had seen his share of battles, and his face and eyes showed it all.

The entire left side of his face was scarred, deep creases running from brow to chin, ones going horizontally, others going diagonally, and general scars everywhere. His eyes had lost their gleam, and now more resembled those belonging to a corpse.

In front of him raged an intense battle between the forces of the Confederacy and the Alliance. The battle had been raging for little over an hour now, and ruined hulks littered space. The smaller starfighters dodged in between giant ships, chasing after one another in a deadly game of hide and seek.

"Are there any new contacts?" Captain Bai asked from his seat. His scars served to remind him of how a CIS fleet, disguised as civilians had ambushed his own fleet, wiping out virtually all the ships. In fact, a torpedo had struck a K-wing bomber right outside the bridge. The explosion had sent fragments and shrapnel tearing into the bridge. It was only luck that he had turned to the right to address one of his officers that only his left side was struck and peppered with hot metal. He had since learned to keep up continuous scan of the area, to ensure that the CIS couldn't sneak a few ships into the battle zone.

"No sir," the officer manning the station dutifully replied.

"Keep scanning."

A burst of fire lit up the bridge as an X-wing exploded, its frame torn apart by a Tri-fighter. The point-defence guns near the bridge started booming, lasers streaking the sky as the automated fighter tried to avoid meeting the same fate as the X-wing.

Outside the atmosphere sealed bridge, the vacuum of space was filled with fire. A pair of Alliance frigates pressed forward, their minimal armament blazing, distracting several Confederate ships from the two Star Destroyers that approached their lines, amidst bombers, fighters and lasers.

A single _Providence_ challenged the duo, its own heavy batteries ablaze with firepower. The rest of the Alliance fleet moved up, pressing the advantage they had: superior ship design, armour and weapons compared to their CIS counterparts. a maelstrom of lasers obliterated the _Providence_ seconds after it had blasted one of the frigates out of action and torn the other one apart.

"Have Theta Squadron form up and proceed to coordinates ZX-225 at flank speed. We're smashing through their lines," Captain Bai ordered.

Theta Squadron: a pair of heavy frigates, two destroyers and a Scythe-class battlecruiser all formed up behind his own ship. They broke away from the main group of Alliance ships at their maximum speed, many of which were deadlocked with the Confederate fleet, and manoeuvred to the Confederate Navy's flank. The few CIS ships who had noticed quickly reacted, forming up in their own battle group, and charged across space to wipe the Alliance battle group out before they could mercilessly shell the Confederate fleet from their position. The computer quickly labelled them as 'Enemy Battle Group Alpha'.

"Shift all fire to Battle Group Alpha!" Captain Bai ordered, as a round of turbolasers rocked the shields.

Their own batteries sent off a salvo of turbolasers streaking across space before they fell into a steady _thumping_ rhythm which reverberated throughout the ship. The Confederate battle group not being distracted by the mass of Alliance ships mixed up with their own responded. However, tens of thousands of kilometres away, a multitude of 'holes' opened in space, and sent a massive energy surge that was picked up on virtually every ship in the battle.

"Sir, energy spikes! We have unknown ships entering the battle zone!" the scanner officer shouted, his voice penetrating the dull murmur that always hung over the bridge.

"What? Show me!" demanded Captain Bai.

"They're on screen!" another officer shouted.

One of the viewing screens mounted near the top of the bridge view ports fuzzed into life, displaying the unknown warships. Half of the ships had sleek and curving lines, and were silvery in colour. The other half consisted blocky, angular shapes, save for one, who had the hard lines of the others, but had a similar silvery colour.

"Sir? Squadron is requesting orders for new vessels," one of the officers said.

Captain Bai furrowed his eyebrow. If he assumed they were friendly when they were not, it would leave them wide open to be wiped out. Memories of the day he had stared death in face and seen virtually all of the fleet destroyed flooded back.

"Sir! Unknown vessels have a massive spike in power to other sources apart from engines! Requesting orders!"

The spike in power confirmed it all.

"Fire at unknown vessels!" he ordered. He didn't know that moments earlier, their leader aboard the flagship had been killed, a Providence ramming the ship. That left him in overall command, and the fleet followed his orders.

* * *

"Well, I'll be damned," Admiral Thompson said, staring at the battle through the holographic screens.

"What do we do sir?"

"Give me a link to the Fleet Master," he ordered.

"Aye sir. Link is active."

"'Kaisemee. I trust you can see the dilemma we've got?"

"Of course," the Elite rumbled. "We're powering our weapons. There's no need to unprepared in the face of a potential enemy."

"We call it 'caught with your pants down'," Admiral Thompson said. "Very well, prepare for battle."

The Fleet Master tilted his head as a sign of acknowledgement before the screen winked off.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, you heard the scaly bastard. Full power to railguns; I want a firing solution given to the officers yesterday! Arm all Archer pods, alert other ships!" barked the Admiral.

"Aye sir! Archer pods warming up!"

"Firing solution calculated, Admiral," came Cynthia's smooth, melodic voice. "It is being transmitted as we speak."

"Give me ninety-five percent power on reactor! Sound decompression alarms in all non-essential sections!"

"Aye sir! Reactor at ninety percent and rising!"

"Alarms sounded!"

A steady blaring started throughout the ship as people, both personnel and Marines hurried.

"All hands to battle stations, I repeat, all hands to battle stations!"

"Marine counter-boarding parties, to your posts. This is not a drill," Cynthia's calm voice floated throughout the Aegis, calm despite the chaos raging as people hurried to their positions.

"Alright Marines! Sound off!" barked a Marine sergeant.

"Sanders ready!"

"Markinson, ready!"

"To your posts! Double time Marines, go go go!" shouted the sergeant once the calls had been finished. Boots clanged against the deck as the Marines rushed around, passing other squads. They hadn't seen combat for a long time, and many of them were simply itching for a fight.

Outside, similar scenes could be seen throughout the entire UNSC-Covenant fleet. Motes of blood-red light gathered at places on the Covenant ships as the infamous plasma torpedos were readied. Several Energy Projectors were charging up, ready to dispel their destructive energy through space. MAC guns, Archer pods were readied, as the railgun turrets aboard the _Aegis_ powered up.

The CIS fleet, seeing this along with the Alliance battle group, assumed the worst. They too fired, joining the Alliance in sending a barrage of turbolasers across to the newcomers. The turbolasers struck a UNSC frigate. Armour exploded off it, as the relatively thin sheets were blasted off, exposing the interior to the cold void of space.

Twenty seconds later, the frigate exploded.

"Goddamn son of a _bitch_!" Admiral Thompson snarled, brining his fist down on his command chair and leaping onto his feet. "Open fire! All units: pick your targets and blow them back to the Stone Age!"

"Admiral, I must stress more cautious action," 'Kaisemee advised as he appeared on the screen. "We still do not know if that was intentional or not…"

"Intentions be damned! They wiped out one of our ships without provocation! And one of yours as well! If that's not intentional, then I'm a squiddy bastard like you!"

'Kaisemee sighed. "I do hope you know what you are doing. But we will defend ourselves. We came here to slaughter the Brutes; I intend on doing so."

"If we live through this, then maybe," Admiral Thompson said, sitting back down. "Order railgun crews to concentrate their fire: we'll show these bastards what it means to fuck with us."

* * *

Lt. Jesina Brage jerked her starfighter throughout space, dodging torpedos, lasers and debris: the silent killer. They had lost many a good pilot because a simple piece of space junk had torn shields open, allowing it to tear the frame of the spacecraft to bits. The pilot/s would meet a messy end after running out of oxygen and asphyxiating in the cold realm of space.

"How's it going Four-Two?" she asked.

"As well as it can be, Four Lead," her wingmate replied, before unleashing a full salvo from his own laser cannons, tearing a droid fighter apart.

"Bombers, 12 o'clock high!" she shouted suddenly, the new information having just scrolled across her screen. "Four-Two, follow my lead."

"Copy that."

The two X-wings pulled up sharply, dodging a pair of A-wings that swooped past. The formation of bombers was ahead, headed on a bombing run. She flicked the arming switch for her proton torpedos, and started to manoeuvre her fighter closer.

"I got 'em: proton torpedos aw-…"

Before she could finish, a blue streak flashed across the bomber wing, shredding all five apart in an instant. The shockwave of the streak sent her fighter spinning out of control, but had a deadlier consequence for her wingmate: his X-wing was actually closer to the bombers than hers, and was also torn apart from the tremendous stress suddenly exerted on it.

"This is Four Lead, I'm losing control!" she shouted, as her fighter was bucked about.

The streaks continued on their destructive force, shattering everything in its way without so much as slowing, before smashing into an Alliance destroyer. The shields held out for a moment, before shattering under the tremendous force. The second streak, unopposed by barriers, smashed into the ship, coring it.

The railgun spike tore armour, flesh and metal apart as if it wasn't there, before exiting on the other side, leaving a gaping hole in the destroyer. The stresses were too great, and the destroyer slowly tore itself apart, drifting away in separate pieces.

Jesina could hardly tear her gaze from the silent spectacle, until her comlink blared. "Four Lead, do you copy?"

"This is Four Lead, go ahead," she said, tearing her transfixed gaze away.

"Four Lead, form your wing up and engage new enemy contacts!"

"What?" she asked, before glancing over in the direction where the streaks had originated from.

A whole new fleet of ships had appeared, and were launching large blobs of light and even what looked like oversized slugs into both the Alliance and Confederate fleet. Either way, they were really making their presence felt: ships exploded under the long-ranged barrage they were outputting as swarms of what could only be fighters were released.

"Four Wing on me!" she shouted into the comlink.

A chorus of 'roger's met her, as the surviving pilots of Four Wing formed up, along with other squadrons of X-wings and TIE Fighters and Interceptors. The new fleet seemed to grow tired of simply staying out of the fight, and began to move forwards.

"Sound off!" Jesina ordered.

"Four-One ready!"

"Four-Four ready!"

"Four-Six rea-…look out!"

Four-Six exploded, as Droid Starfighters suddenly swarmed upon them, laser cannons barking.

"Engage!" she shouted.

The fighters drew deadly lines against the void as shields flared against impacts. Missiles flew across space as they found targets, locked on and mercilessly pursued them. Jesina's X-wing completed a barrel roll to avoid a pair of missiles that flew past her, before pumping a Tri-fighter full of lasers. It joined the numerous other explosions of destroyed fighters.

"Enemy contacts, dead ahead!" a pilot shouted.

In front of them flew a wing of the new fighters. Longswords and their Covenant Seraph counterparts joined the fray as part of the picket forces while the UNSC-Covenant fleet advanced. The Alliance pilots quickly found their new adversaries to be very capable combatants. Flying in formations of two to even ten, they added a new element to the battle.

"Come on," Jesina mumbled as she followed a Longsword. "Stay still you bastard…"

The enemy fighter was proving to be remarkable agile. It rolled, dove and rose to shake her off, but she was still on its tail.

"Got ya!" she said, letting loose a pair of bursts.

They tore into the Longsword's rear, biting off metal and circuitry, but failed to destroy it. To her surprise, a gun suddenly started to flash to life, sending bursts of 120mm shells into her fighter. The shells exploded against her shields, wearing them down. Swearing, she dove, and then fired a proton torpedo. The Longsword erupted into a fireball.

"Four Lead, I have a bogey on my tail! Requesting assiss-…" the comlink was unexpected cut off with a scream followed by an explosion.

"Four-Three!" she shouted, jerking her fighter about to see one of the teardrop-shaped fighters blast Four-Three into oblivion.

* * *

Rsku 'Katumee, a veteran pilot, smiled triumphantly as another one of the X shaped fighters was destroyed by his hands. He dove, narrowly avoiding a torpedo as another fighter came to challenge him.

_No doubt to exact revenge for their fallen_, he thought to himself as a pair of lasers streaked by. Pulling his mind away from thoughts, he concentrated on obtaining his fourth kill so far. He flew directly up, hoping to bait the other to following him. It didn't disappoint.

With the fighter still following him, he casually let loose a pair of shots from his plasma cannons, clipping an enemy fighter and causing it to lose control. He activated the gravity brakes, bringing his fighter to a massively reduced speed and then strafed to the left. Had it not been for the advanced compensators within the cockpit, he surely would have blacked out. The other fighter overshot him, and he instantly powered back on the thrusters, chasing after his hunter.

With another grin, he depressed the firing controls.

* * *

Jesina was mentally cursing herself as she became the prey. How could she have been so stupid?

Then the plasma started to flash by, and she stopped worrying, and tried concentrating on evading her attacker, to no avail. Several blips struck the shields, and within a few shots, had brought them down.

The next rounds warped the metal of her fighter, fusing components together as well as doing severe damage. The R2 unit took a direct hit and was destroyed.

Warning lights started to flash as more and more of her fighter was chewed away.

"This is Four-Lead, taking fire! I'm ejecting!" she shouted, before ejecting, moments before her fighter was destroyed.

By now, the Covenant frigates had arrived, and were using their highly accurate pulse lasers to destroy the remaining fighters. Shielded or not, X-wings, TIE Fighters and Interceptors, A-wings and Confederate fighters were all boiled out of existence.

A tear came to her eye as she watched the rest of the Alliance fleet, who had been the victorious between them and the Confederates, driven away. Ships that remained to fight were quickly smashed out of space by MAC rounds, plasma torpedos and railgun spikes. The new fleet sent out other ships which started combing the area.

* * *

"What now?" 'Kaisemee asked as he faced Admiral Thompson over the screen.

"We've achieved a victory, but it's meaningless if we don't have a base of operations," the Admiral said. "I think we need to grab a bit of the planet for ourselves."

"Surely you aren't suggesting we invade it?"

"Just a small portion," Thompson snapped. "If we don't, we'll be whittled down up here. We won't need the entire planet."

"Can we not establish a space station?"

"We don't have the resources for that. We need to get some crew planetside. If not, all these soldiers we have onboard will be bored to death."

'Kaisemee sighed. "Since you make such an eloquent argument. I'll have a Special Forces team on the planet within the hour. They will scan the planet ahead of our main forces."

A single Phantom shot out of the Merciless Dawn's massive hangars, bearing down on the desert planet. Meanwhile, a Pelican floated through the debris, searching for survivors. A floodlight was on, sweeping thought rubble. The beam fell on the motionless form of Jesina Brage, as the crew hurried to get her out of the vacuum. The crew donned suits as the airlocked doors of the Pelican slowly slid open.


	3. Declaration of War

The Intergalactic War, Revised

A.N: Well, hullo hullo hullo. Against all odds, I'm back. Now to address several issues, one of which I'm sure you're screaming out to here, but let's get the minor stuff outta the way first. Congrats to all you Obama supporters over there in the U.S., and bad luck to all you McCain supporters, but good luck next time! I don't take sides, so don't accuse me of being this supporter or that supporter, and don't slag each other in the review section: keep this story clean of any real-life political situations, got me?

Secondly, I'm not going to make excuses. But if you want some advice from me, here goes: never, ever ever ever try to multitask with fics. I kept bouncing back and forth between this and various other fics, and this was the result: a massively long wait for this chapter, and somehow I feel that this chapter didn't justify the long wait. Yes, I know several of you will be screaming 'OMG OP UNSC!!1!1!!' in your review…give it a rest. Please. I know about it, and will address it when the time comes. And yes, I know: the Elite names suck. Give me a break: the last time I used a name generator, my comp was infected with a virus. Someday, I'll change it...

Apart from that and needless to say, I'm quite happy with the range of reviews and their insight and comments. But come on, you want to make a contribution to this story? Review. It's quick, easy and simple and won't cost you more than a minute of your life. This goes for every story out there, mind you, not just mine. I'm sure those authors would appreciate your opinion as well. Let's get on with it, shall we? Keep those reviews coming in, okay?

To address some anonymous reviewers: 0- Thanks for your input. I'll admit that dialogue and plot setting have not always been a strong suit for me, and I'll try my best to fix it in the later and upcoming chapters.

fatdude- Thanks also for the much more informative review. When I meant 'slim' I meant it as like how the Covenant ships are designed: compare them to UNSC ships, and the latter most certainly has much more bulk than the compartively slimmer Covenant designs, if you get what I mean.

Thunder- Thanks for your review as well. Did I mention I'm not a good romance writer either? IF I can incorporate some into the story without screwing up it so badly and turning into another one of those 'holiday romance' fics, perhaps I will consider it.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Both of them.

Chapter 3: Declaration of War

* * *

The interior of the Phantom was deathly quiet save for the very faint hum of the engines. The dim lighting combined with this created a very morbid atmosphere within the dropship, which suited its occupants just fine. Their outlines were just barely visible; the legendary Spec Ops Operation Group Echo as they were now known to their human allies, or the Hidden Blade to all Covenant.

A team of seven of the most skilled Spec Ops Elites and three Spec Ops Grunts, they had accomplished mission after mission without fail. Their enemies, whether it be human, heretic or Brute all fell to their weapons and blades. Not long after they were allies, albeit uneasy ones at that, the humans had requested some of the Spec Ops soldiers' services. Initially the High Council had all but refused, but when the offer was made that a few of the legendary Spartans could be utilised for both allies, the decision was quickly reached. As such, the Hidden Blade had adopted the human code Operation Group Echo.

"Warriors," their leader said, stalking among them. His black armour was tinged with white around the edges as the only possible way of denoting his rank; he had all but refused the stark white armour of a Spec Ops leader. "The Fleet Master has requested our services. As you all may know, we have engaged a new enemy. It is up to us to discover a suitable landing zone for ours and our ally's forces."

The leader sat down, and ran through the roster.

Nva 'Yhanamee, a 'standard' jack-of-all trades Spec Ops Elite and more importantly, the squad's only officially recognised medic; while everyone else did have medical training, none were more so experienced than he was.

Yae'na 'Nikomee, their heavy weapons specialist. Competent with all heavy weapons, including human ones. His Spec Ops Elites weren't bound by honour.

Sswa 'Oloptee, their communications and 'standard' Spec Ops Elite.

Shira 'Vonamee, a specialist at stealth. He had the ability to sneak past all guards and defences even without Active Camouflage, and with it, he was just all that more dangerous. Combined with his natural talent at using silenced human weaponry along with his standard Covenant arsenal, he was a formidable force to be reckoned with.

Mau 'Vahonamee was a sniper. Lethal and efficient with all forms of sniper weaponry, his handiwork was an art form.

Eiate 'Hacamee was the close-combat specialist. With twin Energy Swords, he was unmatched when it came to fighting in close.

And finally, there was himself: Ayph 'Ranjamee. It was his duty to lead his lethal team to success. He hadn't failed yet, and had no intentions of doing so any time soon.

The three Grunts; Wirnig, Kikul and Quiquip were as loyal and respectful as any Elite could ask of one. They obeyed him out of respect, not fear, and he had all but demanded that they were to be treated as equals within the squad. Good fighters on their own, when backed up by the rest of the squad, the trio of Grunt's ferocity were nothing to be laughed at or underestimated.

The Phantom streaked on, its exterior skin starting to warm up from entering the atmosphere. The pilots maintained control of the craft though, and within minutes, had passed through the atmosphere.

"Excellency, we are landing within five units," the pilot reported.

"Very well. Warriors, prepare for battle!"

"We were never here!" they chanted back their creed.

Dust was kicked up all along the Phantom as the purple dropship began its slow descent to a reasonable level for it to drop its passengers in a rocky valley. The miniaturised gravity lift hummed with power, as one by one, the deadly passengers of the Phantom were disgorged. With the last Grunt and Elite on the ground, the pilot quickly reengaged the engines, and flew back up to join the fleet.

"Spread out," 'Ranjamee ordered in a deadly whisper. "Engage Active Camouflage."

The squad rapidly flickered out of view, the light-bending devices within their armour serving their purpose of rendering their wearers all but invisible, increasing their lethalness two-fold. With barely a word, they moved on, intent of locating any enemy stronghold and open areas.

* * *

Trudging through the sands for what felt like hours, it was nearly an hour before anything happened.

"Hostile spotted," 'Vahonamee breathed, looking through his Beam Rifle's scope.

Training kicked in, as everyone within Operations Group Echo instantly flattened themselves against rocks, the floor, anything to avoid standing in the open.

"Where?" 'Ranjamee asked.

An icon popped up over everyone's HUD, displaying what 'Vahontee had found. It was a small encampment of sorts, and groups of robed and masked figures walked around, dragging what looked like other figures around as well. The occasional scream sounded out from the huts, and the strange, incomprehensible speak of the figures.

"Excellency? What we do?" asked Quiquip, gripping his Plasma Rifle with anticipation. None of his Grunts carried anything below a Plasma Rifle, and two of them bore the mightiest guns of the Covenant ground forces: the Fuel Rod Guns.

"We must see if they are friendly," 'Ranjamee said, standing up.

"Excellency, let me do it: you are too valuable to lose in an ambush," protested 'Oloptee.

"As much as I appreciate your concern, I will do it," 'Ranjamee stood firm, before connecting with the voice amplifier in his helmet. "Attention unknown people!"

The call caught all of their attention, as they faced the massive Elite standing atop of a small sandy hill.

"We intend to pass by, without any harm! Allow us safe passage, and we shall not harm you!"

A strange rallying cry sounded up from the camp, and within seconds, a dozen of them had fired at the Elite, striking him three times before he dove back to cover.

"An eternal curse falls upon them! All warriors, strike!" roared 'Ranjamee.

A battle cry rose up among his team and brothers, as they stormed up the rise, meeting a storm of projectiles without flinching, before answering with their own barrage of plasma and radioactive projectiles. 'Vahontee's rifle flashed once, taking off the head of one of the attackers.

While that was happening, 'Hacamee and 'Vonamee had slipped down the hill, still camouflaged and invisible. They bolted across the terrain, with 'Hacamee drawing his twin Energy Swords and preparing them. When they reached the camp, the battle was over for the Tusken Raiders.

Twin swords exploded from thin air, slicing two Raiders apart with a graceful swing from both swords. With both swords little more than passing blurs of light, 'Hacamee danced through the opposition, his blades sliding from one attacker to the next. One Raider raised a staff to strike at him; he cleaved the staff in half with one blade, and simultaneously plunged the other into its chest. A trail of bodies detailed the destructive path 'Hacamee had sown.

'Vonamee entered the huts, clearing out any aggressors while leaving alone those who were not armed or were children. Anytime he could avoid shooting an attacker, he snapped their necks, leaving his own silent path of bodies. Reaching a large hut, he shot the two Raiders guarding it, and stepped inside.

By now, the remaining eight Spec Ops had stopped firing, and gathered for a sprint down to the encampment.

"You go ahead, Excellency. I shall provide cover fire for your advance," 'Vahonamee said.

"No. You need to advance with us; I am not leaving you behind to be picked off," 'Ranjamee ordered, and 'Vahonamee bowed his head in acknowledgement.

By now, the battle was over, and all that was left for them to do was to pick through the rubble. They swept into huts, checked for any armed hostiles, before moving on. A few who had been shot were merely wounded, and they left them be.

"Excellency, over here!" 'Vonamee called from one of the larger tents.

'Ranjamee pointed to 'Nikomee, ''Yhanamee and 'Oloptee. "Keep a lookout for anybody."

"Of course Excellency. Happy to provide you with my services," 'Nikomee said, touching his forehead to his Fuel Rod Gun as a sign of respect as 'Oloptee nodded. Compared to 'Nikomee's bulk, the communications specialist was a midget.

The others entered the tent, leaving the two outside. "The sky is most beautiful," 'Nikomee noted. Despite his role in battle to provide sheer firepower, by contrast, he was an outgoing Elite, almost childish at heart. He was perhaps a bit of an oddity within the group, with his fascination for all things that created explosions and willingness to work with other non-Spec Ops warriors, but the entire group was an oddity compared to the others.

"Perhaps so. But it is trivial," 'Oloptee answered.

"Nothing is trivial in this world or galaxy! Everything has a place," 'Nikomee said. "Of course, we cannot always avoid destruction."

"If we could, what use would we be then?"

'Oloptee's statement solicited a deep booming laugh from the bulky Elite when they heard their leader's voice from within.

"'Yhanamee, we require your services," 'Ranjamee said.

The medic, who had been quiet up until now nodded. "I am on my way Excellency."

He pushed open the flapping fabric that served as the tent's entrance, and nearly stopped in shock at the sight in front of him. A dozen people, of varying looks and species, but all with the same brutal scars and cuts lay unconscious across the coarse ground. The rest of the squad hovered over the wounded people, and 'Ranjamee looked up.

"'Yhanamee, will these people survive?" he asked as the medic came closer and began examining them.

"Perhaps. But given the blasted planet's condition, I doubt if they shall live through the night."

"And we cannot take them with us either," 'Ranjamee mused.

The others in the tent waited patiently as he thought over their predicament.

"Put them out of their misery," 'Ranjamee sighed, his conscience heavy as the others nodded. "May the Gods forgive what we have done."

He walked out of the tent, and the sounds of Carbines firing caused his conscience to sink even lower.

"Excellency, it is done," 'Yhanamee said solemnly as he strode out of the tent, followed by the rest of the squad.

"Move out," he ordered.

Without word, all seven Elites and three Grunts activated their active camouflage, and faded into the drab sands once more, leaving behind the devastated remnants of a Tusken Raider colony.

* * *

After seemingly endless trudging through the wastelands, the Covenant reconnaissance team stumbled upon a the perfect landing zone and place for the establishment of a base, the first of UNSC or Covenant kind in this corner of the galaxy. The only thing that stood in the way of the base's construction was the already-established Alliance garrison there.

"Excellency, we have discovered a suitable landing zone for our forces," 'Ranjamee reported, as his team stood in plain view atop a sand dune, invisible to the naked eye.

"Excellent work Commander. I see your capabilities are not to be doubted," 'Kaisemee's disembodied voice said. "We shall alert our human allies, and begin landing base construction materials at once."

"There is a small problem though, Excellency," 'Ranjamee said. "An enemy garrison is already established overlooking our landing site."

A silence filled the other line as 'Kaisemee pondered their situation.

"Hold your position Commander, while I converse with our allies."

The line went silent for another minute while 'Kaisemee did his best to talk some sense into Admiral Thompson, who was enraged over the loss of multiple ships, and was fully intending to blaze a warpath through their newfound enemies.

"Commander, your orders are to infiltrate the enemy compound and cut their communications and power. Render them deaf, blind and defenceless before we strike," 'Kaisemee ordered.

"Understood."

With a single glance upwards, 'Ranjamee looked back at the rather formidable compound they were tasked with breaching.

"'Nikomee, 'Vahonamee and 'Hacamee, you three stay behind and give us supporting fire if need be," 'Ranjamee ordered. Although he hated to lose 'Hacamee's skills with the Energy Sword inside the compound, it was better to leave him to help the others he had left behind in case they were attacked.

The three of them nodded, as the other seven members slowly slid down the dune, and sneaked across the desert plains to reach the outpost.

* * *

"Cut the hole!"

A bright light fizzled into existence, and then was consumed by the metal as Corporal Cody Miller scanned the rooftop, his back to Private Kathleen Henderson and Private Andrew Johansen as they operated the cutting torch. Three other ODSTs secured the harnesses to the rooftop, and began pooling out the length of rope. Around him, dozens of Marines, ODSTs and Covenant soldiers were storming the base, dropped in by Pelicans and Phantoms, untouched by the heavy weapons which lay as useless piles of scrap metal. They met the base's surprised garrison, quickly flushing the surprised defenders out and engaging in small groups. What seemed like a hundred individual firefights had broken out all over the base within minutes, even as a heavy repeating blaster mounted in one of the watchtowers opened up, cutting a fireteam to pieces. Bolts flew up at the incoming dropships, and were in the middle of tracking one of the Pelicans when a purple beam flashed from beyond the base's walls, striking the gunner in the forehead. Their once formidable base defences, now inactive due to the lack of power, did nothing to stop the battle-hardened Marines from storming each structure, unopposed by heavy weaponry.

"Prep the charges!" Sgt. Randall ordered, sweeping the rooftop with his rifle as Private Johansen pulled out a strip of explosives, layering it on the cut they had made.

"Charges placed!" he yelled, grabbing his weapon off his shoulder and sprinting away from the hole, an action mirrored by all the other ODSTs and the other two ODST teams who had joined them.

The explosive charges went off, detonating with a _bang_ that blasted the affected area down. Already, Miller was running for the lines, strapping on the harness and securing his shotgun to his chest. He was already flying down the rope, even as he heard Sgt. Randall shout "Get those SAWs up!"

No sooner had he and two other ODSTs began fast roping down did red laser bolts fly past them. Several of the bolts struck the two ODSTs next to him, and he gritted his teeth as the two crumpled to the floor, their biosigns on his HUD flat. The defenders had just barely begun to aim for him when a barrage of machinegun fire from above shredded them. Spent shell casings rained down on him, even as his boots touched the ground and dove for cover as the two light machineguns outputted a steady hail of lead that forced the defenders back for the fear of being torn apart, allowing him a brief respite. He pulled out a grenade from one of his armour's pouches, primed it and rolled it down the corridor as the next lot of ODSTs dropped in. By the time they were on the floor, the grenade had detonated with a loud bang, amidst the sound of screaming.

"On me!" he shouted, rising from cover and charging down the corridor, followed by the three ODSTs who were on the ground. One of the enemy soldiers poked their head out, and he greeted it with a blast from his M90 shotgun, blowing the body back a fair distance.

Another storm of lasers greeted them as the enlarged group of ten ODSTs swept through another corridor, the hunkered down defenders unleashing a barrage of deadly light that blew out steaming craters in the walls. The sudden barrage of fire forced the ODSTs back. Two of the ODSTs leaned around the corner, braving enemy fire to toss a pair of frag grenades as well as a smoke grenade before ducking back behind the corner again, a laser narrowly missing one of the armoured troopers.

"Suppressing fire!" Miller yelled as the two grenades exploded.

One of the ODSTs armed with a SAW ran past him and lay prone on the floor, before unleashing a barrage of machinegun fire down the hall. Another pair of ODSTs joined the machine gunner, firing rifles down the corridor. The long rumbles of the machinegun firing was interspersed with the sharp bursts of a BR55HB SR Battle Rifle and the blazing of an MA5C as the trio kept up a constant stream of lead that forced the defenders to keep their heads down: the dead bodies of anyone who poked their heads out was enough encouragement for them to do so, even without bullets hammering their position.

"Find a way to flank the bastards!" Miller ordered, turning back and running down another corridor. "Heath, Kell, cover our rear."

"Aye sir," Heath replied, skidding to a halt and crouching down along with the other ODST private.

By that time, the group of five ODSTs lead by Miller had found an alternate path leading to the defenders. A few soldiers completely clad in stark-white armour attempted to stop them, managing to gun down two of the ODSTs, but at close range, their armour failed to hold up against the sheer force of an 8-gauge magnum shell. A sustained burst from two MA5Cs brought another trooper down, and the last fell to a well-placed burst of battle rifle fire that punched through the helmet's eye slit. Five dead soldiers for two of the ODSTs. Almost a fair trade, except that he needed very trooper he could get to pull off a successful flank.

"Keep moving!" Miller ordered, stopping only to grab the dog tags of the two dead ODSTs as the remaining pair of troopers thundered down the corridor.

A pair of grenades had landed in the defender's midst by the time Miller had caught up with the pair. Startled by the sudden appearance of the ODSTs to their side, several of the soldiers were killed outright by the exploding grenades and rifle fire. Even as Miller weaved his way down the corridor, ducking behind cover whenever he could, well aware that his shotgun was as useful as a peashooter at the distances he was facing, blaster bolts few at the ODSTs. Five struck one of the black-clad commandos before a sixth struck and shattered the visor, killing him. The other trooper quickly withdrew, blaster bolts pounding the corner even as Miller finally reached what was accepted as lethal shotgun range.

He leaned around the corner just as an armoured trooper ran up, weapon in hand. All the body armour in the galaxy wouldn't have been able to save the doomed trooper as Miller pulled the trigger. The shotgun spat, tearing into the trooper's stomach and eliciting a short scream of agony from the dying man, as the other ODST stepped around the corner and unleashed a storm of lead, gunning down two the of the soldiers. He pumped the shotgun again, leaning around the corner and firing. The pellets went wide, striking the wall next to the last standing trooper. The trooper recoiled in shock, and when he turned, was suddenly faced down by the barrels of a pair of rifles.

"Drop your weapon," the impassionate, filtered voice of the lead ODST ordered. "Hands up."

Shakily, the trooper dropped his weapon and raised his hand, fearful of the black-armoured commandos who had just decimated his entire squad and just as surprised that he could understand their language. He glanced around, even as more ODSTs poured in, sweeping every room and bringing out survivors, some of whom were questioned for the whereabouts of the base's command centre.

"Check for survivors," Miller ordered, striding up. "Fireteam Alpha, with me," he said, and the three-man ODST jogged up, following his lead.

The fireteam, using information from several of the captured personnel reached the communications centre in a relatively short order, brushing aside resistance with superior firepower and aggressive tactics. Many of the ODSTs were veterans from the Human-Covenant War, and compared to storming a Covenant base swarming with shielded aliens and advanced plasma weapons, this was almost like a comparative stroll through the park.

"Blow the door," Miller ordered, as an ODST ran up and placed a small explosive on the door.

"Blowing charge!" the ODST shouted, sending a remote signal to the bomb.

It went off with a small flash, blasting through the metal. The doors fell apart as one of the ODSTs ran up and kicked the door in, only to be felled by a dozen blaster shots from the personnel inside.

"Abrew's down!" another ODST shouted, as more blaster bolts pelted the wall opposite to the door.

"Flashbangs!" Miller shouted, rolling a stun grenade into the room as three others simultaneously lobbed them in. They went off; a series of blinding flashes and deafening sound that rendered the defenders inside helpless. He stepped into the doorway and raised his shotgun, taking aim…

* * *

A stark white ceiling greeted Jesina Brage's eyes as the inky blackness of unconsciousness faded away. Her mind, still muddled from the blackout and lack of oxygen, failed to grab onto anything as her vision blurred. She blinked rapidly, and was startled to no end when a face appeared.

"Ah, you're awake," the stranger said, before her vision finally cleared.

She jumped up, flinging off the sheet that had covered her and reaching for her blaster pistol, even as a pair of soldiers at the door raised their imposing guns at her.

"Where am I?" Jesina demanded, even as the first person backed away, hands held forward in a calming manner. "What have you done with my blaster?" she said, become more and more hysterical as she discovered that her pistol was missing.

"Young lady, please, calm down! I'm not going to hurt you, okay? These people here won't hurt you!" the person said, gesturing at the two soldiers, who stood unflinchingly straight with their rifles aimed at her.

Jesina put as much distance between herself and the person, while keeping an eye on the two guards. Without anything to defend herself, instincts was running high even as whomever the person was tried to calm her.

"You're in the medical bay of the _Aegis_, our flagship," the person said. "We found you floating in space, nearly dead from lack of oxygen."

"What is the _Aegis_?" she questioned, still distrustful.

"Ours—that is so say, the UNSC battlegroup's flagship."

"What's the UNSC?" she asked, before realising that they must've been the newcomers who had completely smashed the Alliance and Confederate fleet. "What are you doing to me?" she demanded, skirting as far as she could from the doctor still.

"I'm a doctor! We saved your life!" the doctor exclaimed. Before he could say anything else, one of the guards strolled up and whispered something in the doctor's ear and handing over a small device. "Yes? Yes sir…she's awake, but quite traumatised, as you can imagine. You might be able to, if she's willing. Alright, yes sir."

"What's going on?" Jesina demanded.

"Our leader wants to see you," the doctor said simply. "He's on his way now. Please don't be so rude to him: he's not known for being tolerable."

Jesina huffed, as the door that quarantined her room from the rest of the ship opened, allowing in a tall, heavily built human who was flanked by a trio of guards. Her two guards snapped to attention, and saluted.

"At ease," their leader said, surveying the room before settling his gaze on her. "Can she understand me?"

The doctor scooted up. "Quite amazingly sir, yes. Our language seems to be very similar to each others. She should be able to understand."

Jesina had flown under many leaders, many of whom were either intimidating or downright terrifying. This leader seemed to be a combination of the two, instilling respect into anyone who ran into him, yet projected enough fear to confirm his authority and ruthlessness. She bit her lip as the person came closer.

"My name's Admiral Thompson of the United Nations Space Command. I am in charge of the human portion of our little battlegroup," the admiral began, as he started to pace the room. "We seem to have a little…fight against your navies, and being newcomers and all, we're a little lost."

Jesina snorted. "You think I would help you after you destroyed virtually our entire fleet? Fat chance."

The admiral gave her an appraising glance, before turning on his heel and walking towards the door, seemingly ignorant of Jesina's dagger-like glares at his back.

"Have you contacted the other rescue teams yet?" the admiral asked, not turning around and stopping at the door.

"All teams have been accounted for; no survivors," one of the guards said.

"What a shame," the admiral said, although it was painfully obvious that he hardly meant it.

_

* * *

_

Hours _later…_

The world of Coruscant was not just a world: it was one single, enormous metropolis that spanned across its entire surface, covering the world with artificial jungles of ferrocrete and metal. Lines of ships, bearing passengers, cargo or raw materials flowed non-stop to the world, which relied on the materials the freighters brought in to sustain both itself and the various buildings. In orbit hung the station that held the Alliance's military headquarters, the heart and mind of the entire Alliance military arm. Ringed by turbolaser turrets and protected by an immensely powerful shield generator in addition to a thick layer of durasteel, the station was hardly defenceless, and backed up by an entire fleet dedicated to the protection of it and the planet; the station was a formidable sight and opponent. Inside, a garrison of elite Alliance soldiers protected the interior of the station against boarders and other security threats, as well as serving as a large part of the station's logistical crew. All in all, the station served as a powerful reminder of the Galactic Alliance's might.

A small number of battered and scorched ships suddenly exited out of hyperspace, and were instantly targeted by the multiple gun turrets, which continued to track the small fleet even after the proper codes had been transmitted. Once they had pulled up alongside the orbital repair stations, a flurry of repair drones, shuttles and workers flooded out, affixing cables, lines and beginning to transport giant sheets of metal to cover up the gashes in the ships. From the battered wreck that was Captain Bai's ship, a single shuttle left the bays, and flew up to the looming figure of the Alliance military station.

Inside one of the landing bays, a squad of Alliance marines greeted Captain Bai's vision as he stepped down the ramp of the shuttle. Two of them quickly searched him, patting him down for any hidden weapons beyond the sidearm every officer kept.

"He's clean," one of the marines reported.

"Check the shuttle. O'Brian, you're on point. Move out," the sergeant ordered. The squad ran past Bai as they stacked up next to the ramp of the shuttle, gripping their weapons tightly while someone went in first as their point man.

Bai, after walking through the many hundreds of metres of hallways and corridors, found himself outside the meeting room of the main military leaders of the Galactic Alliance. Steeling himself with a deep breath, he strolled forward as confidently as he could, and entered the proverbial lion's den. With a quiet hiss, the door behind him closed, and the surveillance countermeasures kicked in, rendering any form of transmission useless: nothing was getting in, nothing would be coming out. A council of the most important members of the Galactic Alliance military forces sat at a curved table, reading a report. The Admirals of the nine—or rather, eight, given how the Seventh Fleet was decimated by the Confederate forces in their campaign to wrench control of a sizeable portion of the Middle Rim. They had succeeded in driving the overwhelming navies back, at the cost of nearly ninety percent of the entire Seventh Fleet, and the death of their Admiral.

That spot was empty. The other Admirals, some represented by holographic projections due to their call of duty, others in the flesh. He counted them: Admiral Stazi, Supreme Commander and a living legend among the Alliance people. Admiral Ontivere, First Fleet; his campaigns against the Confederacy in the Middle and Outer Rim had been met with great successes, securing large amounts of territory. Wedge Antilles, Second Fleet…his command was questioned by sceptics who still believed he was nothing more than a hyped-up fighter jockey, but was still respected. His fleet was responsible for the defence of Coruscant and a few surrounding areas. Most of the other Admirals were present, and at the end, in command of the Ninth Fleet, was Admiral Pellaeon. The aging admiral had only been recently been pulled out of retirement, when it became obvious that more leaders were needed. Despite his advanced age, he had performed admirably.

"So captain," Stazi began. "Would you care to explain what happened?"

"What would you like to know? Bai replied, standing ramrod straight and staring between the people in front of him, never directly at them.

"What happened when these…unusual ships entered the battle," Pellaeon suggested.

"Yes sir. When this new fleet arrived, we were in a rather desperate situation," Bai said, looking down. "Given how the Confederates seemed sure to win the battle, I was assuming the worst when the new fleet exited from hyperspace."

"The last time an unknown and unidentified fleet entered a battle, it cost us a battle, and nearly my life," Bai continued. "With such an experience, I ordered my battlegroup to fire on the newcomers, unaware our Admiral had perished only moments earlier. We fired on them, and they retaliated."

"Great," snarled one of the Admirals. "Thanks to your compulsive actions, we now have a third enemy to contend with, and Force be damned if they become chummy with the Confederates."

"Actually sir, the Confederate fleet also fired upon them, and they in turn destroyed the remnants of the Confederate fleet," Bai corrected.

A hushed whispering descended onto the panel, and Bai could almost feel some of the hostile looks he was getting from some of the more than a little displeased admirals.

"Gentlemen, enough! We cannot afford to waste time squabbling when the fate of the entire Galaxy is in danger!" Stazi shouted, and quieted the panel instantly. "We must plan our next action, and further more, we must learn more about our new enemy. Captain Bai, you are dismissed. Return to your ship and prepare it and what's left of your battlegroup: you'll be reassigned shortly."

Bai stiffened, nodded before saluting. He turned, and left the room as the panel burst into discussion again.

"A single transmission was sent out to us from our Tatooine garrison base," one of the admirals said, tapping a few buttons, and the holographic projector mounted on the ceiling of the room lit up.

"_To any Galactic Alliance forces who can hear this, please respond! __We're…attac…came out of nowhere…" _

_The display, showing the harried face of an officer in an Alliance uniform distorted temporarily as an explosion rang in the background. Shouts were filling the halls, even as sounds of blasters going off along with weapons they had never heard before overcame the speaker's voice. _

"_We cannot hold out…longer! Send…inforcements!" _

"_Sir! We__'ve lost contact with the barracks! Reports from the outer perimeter of this building suggest that we've been infiltrated!" one of the officers in the room shouted, as the recording shook and fuzzed from a particularly violent explosion._

_The cacophony of war grew increasingly louder, with the sounds of blaster fire being drowned out by deep booms from some kind of weapon and the rapid, staccato sound of rifle fire. Shouts and screams, the melody of war along with its accompaniment, the sounds of blaster fire and explosions, filled the transmission again as several officers gave the door a worrying glance. _

"_Seal the door!" the officer shouted, turning to face his subordinates before turning back to the screen. "We're losing contact with teams all across the board! No word from the perimeter patrols and-…" _

"_Sir, we can't seal the doors!" __one of the other officers shouted, looking up from a screen._

"_What?"_

"_We're running on backup power! __We barely have power as is to keep everything up and running, but the internal defences and bulkheads are down!" _

"_By the bloody damned Force! We need reinforcements, now! We're abandoning the base, and falling back to Mos Eis-…" _

_Before the officer could finish speaking, a portion of the door was suddenly blasted off, moments before they fell to the ground. A dozen blaster pistols spat, and the black-armoured trooper at the door fell. There was cursing from beyond the doorway, and the officers kept up a steady barrage of blaster bolts, pinning the intruders. _

"_Flashbangs!" they heard someone shout, before a quartet of canisters came flying into the room. _

"_Detonator! Get away from it!" someone shouted, before the stun grenades exploded. _

_A blinding white light and deafening sound stunned the officers, before another armoured trooper leaned around the corner, firing his weapon. __The weapon blew a hole in the back of a staggering officer, as another ran up and sprayed the room with suppression fire. Even more black troopers poured into the room, placing a bullet into everything that moved. _

"_Send-…argh!" the officer had managed to say one last word to the communicator, before a shotgun blew a lethal hole in his back. _

_The body slumped to the ground, and the black trooper peered at the screen for a moment, the reflective visor masking all emotion, before raising its weapon and firing at the screen._

"Unbelievable…" one admiral said, staring at the holographic display which was showing the black armoured trooper firing his weapon at the screen.

"Are they rogue Storm Commandos?" another demanded.

"Can't be: their suits don't match."

"We need to find out if there are any survivors first," Stazi said, silencing the panel again.

"I can send a recon picket to investigate Tatooine," Wedge Antilles offered.

"Thank you: get on that right away. The rest of us, we need to start knuckling down and start holding the line…"

* * *

"And that's the last of them," Admiral Thompson said, watching as the decimated remains of the enemy battlegroup flee, leaving behind five ruined wrecks.

He sat down, and pulled up the casualty list, wincing when he saw that a destroyer and a pair of frigates had been destroyed. The losses would've been a great deal higher if 'Kaisemee hadn't manoeuvred his Assault Carrier to absorb some of the hits for the unshielded human fleet, whilst his fleet simultaneously burnt two ships to little more than molten slag with barrages of plasma torpedos. The other three ships were battered apart with MAC rounds, railgun spikes and literally hundreds of missiles.

"As much as I hate to admit it, the squiddy's ass did save our fleet," he mumbled to himself, before looking up. "Lt. Brown, get me a connection to the Fleet Master."

"Aye sir: working on it now," she responded, her long fingers flying across the keys. "Done sir."

The screen mounted at the top of the central holographic display of space outside lit up, and 'Kaisemee's face filled it.

"Yes Admiral?" he prompted.

"How is the ground invasion going?" Thompson asked.

"Well: reports suggest that the enemy was taken by surprise, and with the help of the Hidden Blade, we sustained minor casualties. The outpost is being swept once more as we speak and once that has been complete, we shall begin construction of a base."

"Good. I think that we need to start to establish a presence here, before moving on. We know that whoever is governing this blasted galaxy won't sit around waiting for us: they'll be preparing an attack group," Admiral Thompson said. "And the next time they come, we'll disable one of their ships, capture it and recover any and all astronavigation data."

"You do realise by doing that, we are committing ourselves to war?" 'Kaisemee sighed.

"Hey squid face, listen up: God didn't give us MAC guns or nukes so that our ships could look real pretty," Thompson snarled.

"Then war it is: I hope we are all prepared for the consequences."


End file.
